


gov bench win

by maraanan



Series: Bayani High School AU [2]
Category: Goyo: Ang Batang Heneral (2018), Heneral Luna (2015)
Genre: M/M, Promposal, debate, direct sequel to the fic i wrote 3 years ago
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-07-12 04:08:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15987317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maraanan/pseuds/maraanan
Summary: Most people would wonder what the hell a basketball varsity guy is doing hanging around the debate team’s nerd trainings, but Aguinaldo doesn’t really care.And, okay, he doesn’t really completely understand everything that’s going on – as if he would know what the Syrian conflict is, or what there is to argue about it – but, really, that’s what Mabini’s there for, to explain things to him.(He says he’s not there just for Mabini.)(He also knows that he's wrong.)





	gov bench win

**Author's Note:**

> debate jargon explanations at the end!

Most people would wonder what the hell a basketball varsity guy is doing hanging around the debate team’s nerd trainings, but Miong doesn’t really care.

And, okay, he doesn’t really completely understand everything that’s going on – as if he would know what the Syrian conflict is, or what there is to argue about it – but, really, that’s what Pole’s there for, to explain things to him.

(He says he’s not there just for Pole.)

Miong quietly opens the door to the classroom where they train. He’s late, the first speaker has already started her speech, and he shoots Pole an apologetic smile.

(He also knows that he’s wrong.)

Pole smiles back at him, briefly, before taking his bag on the chair beside him and putting it on the floor, then going back to focus on adjing the debate. Oh. Miong usually sits beside him in trainings. He’d saved the seat for him.

There’s a fuzzy, warm feeling in his chest as he sits down. “Thank you,” he whispers.

“Shhh,” Pole says, not looking away from the speaker. “Adjing. Mamaya na.”

“Sorry,” Miong whispers.

 

 

“Well that was. Fun,” Miong says, once training is over and everyone is leaving.

Pole rolls his eyes as he arranges his notes. “’Fun’ ka diyan. Ang boring ng economics. Mas gusto ko politics.”

“Ah, oo. Tama. Haha,” Miong says, awkwardly. “E di ba’t mo nagsabi na mag-eeconomics kayo ngayon?”

“Kailangan nila ng practice kasi,” Pole says. He puts all his notebooks and yellow pads in his bag. “O, ayan, tapos na ako. Tayo na?”

Sana lang, Miong thinks, but wipes the thought away. He nods. They head out of the classroom.

“Nandito na ba yung kuya mo?” Miong asks as they walk through the corridors.

Pole shakes his head. “Malapit na raw siya, traffic lang.”

“Ah, sige,” says Miong. “Sasamahin kita muna, para hindi ka mag-iisa.”

“Wala pa yung driver mo?”

Miong shakes his head. He remembers the first time Pole found out his family had a driver. Naks naman, RK, Mabini had said, dryly, with the raise of his brow.

They stay outside the lobby, near the guard. Miong sits on the floor beside Pole, leaning against the wall, his bag carelessly strewn on the floor beside him. He yawns and stretches his arms above him.

“So may homework ba tayo?” he asks.

“Deadline ng HE project bukas,” Pole mutters, not looking up from the book he’s reading.

Miong groans. “Shet, hindi pa akong nagsisimula.”

“Hay nako, Miong.”

“Di bale,” says Miong. “May cramming powers naman ako.”

“Sige, push mo yan,” says Pole. “Mag-puyat ka pa. Malapit na mag-PT.”

“Sorry po, nanay,” Miong says. Pole puts his book down and gives him a flat stare.

Miong sticks his tongue out at him.

“Lokong bata ‘to,” says Pole.

Miong laughs. They both go back to whatever they were doing, Pole with his book and Aguinaldo watching the people pass by, occupied with his thoughts.

They’re both alone right now. It might be a good time to test the waters.

“Alam mo,” says Miong, “malapit na rin mag-prom.”

“Next-next-next month pa ‘yan, Miong,” says Pole.

“Oo nga, malapit na.”

Pole rolls his eyes. “Ano na ngayon?”

“Wala,” says Miong. He’s lying, he didn’t bring this up for nothing. “Pupunta ka ba?”

Pole huffs. “Anong gagawin ko dun? Sayang lang sa oras. At sa pera.”

Miong’s heart drops. “E kung may mag-aask sa iyo?”

“’Di yan mangyayari.”

Miong frowns. He wants to argue with him, because Pole is smart and kind and he’s got that smile which just melts your heart, _of course someone would ask him out to prom –_

His phone rings before he can open his mouth.

“Miong,” he hears Pole say. “Phone mo. Nagriring.”

“O-Oo.” Miong fishes his phone out of his pocket and accepts the call. “Hello?”

 _“Hoy bata nasan ka na!”_ says Janolino on the other line. _“Diba kanina pa yung dismissal mo? Magagalit nanaman yung nanay mo sakin kapag gabi ka ulit uuwi!”_

“Opo, opo!” Miong scratches the back of his head. “Sige, pupunta na ako dun, sandali lang, sinasamahan ko lang yung kaibigan ko.”

“Nagdadaldalan lang kayo dun e!”

“Ano ka ba, Kuya, wala siyang kasama, e. Ang bait ko nga e, o! Sige, bye-bye na.”

“Miong –“ Click.

Pole looks at him. “Driver?” Miong nods. Pole sighs. “Miong, hindi naman ako bata. Sige, pumunta ka na dun. Matagal pa si Kuya, alam mo na naman yung traffic.”

Miong pouts, jokingly. “E kung ayaw ko pang umuwi?”

Pole raises his brow and gives him a dry stare. “At bakit namin hindi?”

Miong grins. “Because I want to be with you!” he says, in the hammiest rom-com lead voice he can.

Pole smiles and hits the side of his head. “Siraulo!” They both laugh.

Someday, he’ll be able to say words like that to Pole’s face seriously, not as a mere joke.

 

Miong is running as fast as he can. He can make it - he’s athletic for a reason. He’s all sweaty and disgusting from basketball training. The debate team will probably be disgusted with him when he arrives. He hopes Pole won’t be included.

He barges into the room, panting. Pole is in front, writing on the chalkboard.

“O, ayun. Sakto,” Pole says, looking at him.

“Huh?” Miong says.

“Kailangan namin ng isa pang volunteer,” Pole says.

“Volunteer,” Miong repeats.

“Para sa tournament!” Pepe pipes up from where he’s sitting in front.

“Tournament?” Miong asks. Shet, nagmumukha siyang tanga.

Pole sighs. “Nalimutan mo na? Hindi ba kinwento ko ‘to sa ‘yo?”

It clicks. “Ah! Yung tournament na ihohost niyo!” Miong says. “Sure. Volunteer ako.”

“Thank you, Miong,” Pole says, and Miong smiles. Pole turns back to the board. “Ayun, so, ulit: Ako sa tabs; EJ, sa logistics; Pepe, registration; at Tonyo, runners. Miong, under ka kay Tonyo. Tonyo, i-brief mo naman si Miong, thank you.”

From his seat, Antonio Luna turns to face him. Miong takes that as a sign to sit beside him.

“Kamusta, Aguinaldo.” Luna’s face is stern and rigid.

Miong gulps. “Oks lang.”

He’s not afraid of Luna. Hindi siya duwag. He can do this. For Pole, his heart says.

Luna shifts closer, bringing out a yellow pad. “So eto ang gagawin natin…”

 

Bonifacio, Miong’s Not-Best-Friend, stares at him.

(Okay, so they are Not-Best-Friends. They are not Not-Best-Friends because Miong once thought they were best friends, until he found out that Andres Bonifacio despised him. Vehemently. Miong guesses it’s because of that time when he kind of overthrew Bonifacio as varsity captain, and for a while Bonifacio was delegated to water boy. Miong still believes it’s not his fault he outvoted Bonifacio.

Yeah, Miong would hate himself, too.)

Bonifacio stares at him.

“Ano bang meron sa debate varsity na ‘yan?” he demands. “Imbis na mag-trtraining ka, mag-vovolunteer ka sa debate?”

“Best friend ko yung president,” Miong says. And you’re my Not-Best-Friend, he thinks.

Bonifacio shakes his head and walks away, but not without Miong hearing him mutter “‘Lang kwentang captain…”

Miong wonders.

 

The first day of the tournament arrives.

Pole is absolutely accurate in his delegation of org tasks: himself, who gets 99’s and 100’s in Math, as the head of tabs (which was explained to Miong as only something to do with lots of numbers); Jacinto, with his sharp mind as head of logistics; Pepe, friendly and cheerful as head of registration; and Luna, strict as a teacher as head of runners.

It’s quite funny, actually, how Luna performs his role. Miong trails behind him while he shouts at the debaters during their prep time (Miong has slowly been learning the terms during his friendship with Pole): “HOY ‘WAG KANG PUMASOK DON!” “HOY KAKASABI KO LANG BAWAL GUMAMIT NG PHONE!” “HOY DIBA BAWAL MAGKAUSAP SA HINDI PARTNER? DIBA?”

Miong is, quite frankly, terrified.

Before the rounds had started, Pole, his eyes dark with sleeplessness, told Miong: “Makinig ka sa mga debate, ha? Baka may matutunan ka.”

And he and Luna are in one of the debate rooms now, but dear god he can’t keep up. The debaters talk so fast and when he does get what they’re saying, they’re talking about something he doesn’t understand. It’s way more intense than training. How Pole and the others do this is unimaginable to Miong. He can’t even do a speech properly in class.

“So, Luna…” Miong starts, “may tanong ako.”

Luna remains focused on the debate, eyes not leaving the current speaker. “Hm.”

“Since kayo na ni Isabel… at mukhang masaya naman kayo… may love advice ka ba?”

At that, Luna turns to him, eyes wide, a manic grin on his face. He grabs Miong by the wrist and leads them outside. “Halika.”

After he closes the door, Luna nearly jumps on him. “So may crush ka, Aguinaldo? Sino siya? Kilala ko ba siya? Classmate ba natin?”

Miong blinks. “Uh,” he says. “Oo, may crush ako. Oo, kilala mo siya. Oo, kaklase natin siya.”

“Yiiieee!” says Luna. “Sino ba, sino ba?” His eyes grow wide. “Ah! Si Pole -”

Miong slaps his hand over Luna’s mouth. “Shhh! Ang lakas ng boses mo!”

Luna laughs. “So ano balak mo? Mag-confess?”

Miong nods. “At… sana date ko siya sa prom.”

“Sa prom!” Luna says with glee. “May plano ka na ba? Sa promposal?”

Miong scratches the back of his head. “Wala pa.”

“Ah!” Luna shouts, and Miong nearly jumps. “Alam ko na! Yung ginawa ng isang guy dati.”

Miong leans in. “Ano?”

Luna smiles. “Ganito siya…”

 

“TAB ROOM! DO NOT ENTER!” is written on a paper taped to the door, with the word “not” underlined three times. Miong, carton of the canteen’s fresh milk in hand, knocks and opens the door.

“Diba sabi nga - ah, Miong,” says Pole.

Miong smiles. “Kamusta?”

Pole sighs, eyes focused on his laptop. “Stressed.”

“Alam ko,” Miong says. He hands out the carton of milk. “Para sa ‘yo.”

Pole’s eyes widen by a fraction - never was one to show much emotion - and gives Miong a tiny smile. “Paborito ko ‘to.”

“Alam ko rin,” Miong says, smile widening.

“Thank you,” Pole says.

“You’re welcome,” Miong says.

They continue smiling at each other.

 

“Pepe, pa-favor.”

Pepe, in charge of the powerpoints, gives him a friendly smile. The round is about to start. “Ano ‘yun, Emilio?”

“Pa-flash naman eto sa screen.” Miong hands him a piece of paper.

“Ay, di pwede,” Pepe says, frowning. “Magagalit si Pole sa’kin.”

“Please,” Miong says. “Diba mahilig ka sa… anu nga ‘yun… yung Kiko Balagtas books? Romance?” Miong’s face reddens. “Ba-Basahin mo nalang kasi!”

Pepe reads the paper.

And gasps.

“Emilio! How romantic!” he says. “Ang kyuuuuuut! Sige, sige! Ako na bahala!”

Miong sighs in relief. “Thank you.”

He sits back in one of the chairs of the convening room. He hears the door open, and Pole wheels himself inside. Shet, eto na.

Pepe taps his microphone. “Testing! The round is about to start!” he says. “And the motion is…”

_THBT Apolinario Mabini should go to prom with Emilio Aguinaldo._

The convening room erupts in a mixture of “Huh?” “Who?” and “Yiiiiieee!”

Pepe presses his laptop for the next slide. _GOV or OPP?_

Miong looks to Pole. He’s red as a tomato, eyes wide. Luna grabs the microphone from Pepe and runs to Pole.

“And what is your answer, Senyor Mabini?” Luna asks.

Pole is quiet.

Miong gulps.

Pole carefully takes the microphone from Luna’s hands. He smiles before he speaks. “Gov.”

Miong matches his smile with his own.

**Author's Note:**

> THBT = This House Believes That  
> GOV = Government, the affirmative side (“yes”)  
> OPP = Opposition, the negative side (“no”)


End file.
